


The Longer, the Better

by Ravenheart



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking, Friends to Lovers, M/M, flint pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenheart/pseuds/Ravenheart
Summary: Original prompt: Silver threatens to shave his head.[Written for the Silverflint Summer Challenge]
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62
Collections: Silverflint Summer Challenge





	The Longer, the Better

Even after an endless day at work, Flint had been in good spirits because it was Friday. Fridays were his favorite day of the week because, apart from being a step away from the weekend, they involved making dinner with Silver and watching whatever movie they thought the other was missing out on. It was tradition, as it were. The way of things. 

Something that was  _ also _ very much part of the established order was Silver's hair. It had already been long when they'd met almost two years earlier and had only gotten longer since, now falling well past his shoulders. Those dark curls had featured prominently in Flint's thoughts since the beginning; reluctantly at first, but eventually welcomed with the eagerness of a man who had learned that resisting the inevitable was futile. 

And so of course he stood there, mood suddenly soured but face carefully blank, when Silver announced that he was thinking of getting rid of his hair. All of it. 

"You don't like it anymore?" He asked casually, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt before getting started on the potatoes.

"It's not that." He shook his head, a lock falling out of his loose bun as he chopped garlic and parsley at a speed that made Flint proud. He flexed his arm slightly as he moved a plate out of the way, the tank top showing off his hard work at the gym and prompting Flint to bite his cheek. "But I think it might be time for a change, you know?"

He  _ did _ know. He'd done the same thing after—after. He still didn't have to like it or encourage it, thank you very much. "Buy a leather jacket. Get your ear pierced," he suggested, peeling with unnecessary force. "Rent a yacht."

He snorted. "I'm not having a midlife crisis. I just want to try something new."

"That seems like a very drastic sort of new, considering how long your hair is," he pointed out, putting the peeler down and walking over to the sink.

"I'm sensing an air of disapproval." He could feel Silver eyeing him, but he ignored him in favor of meticulously washing his hands. "Shit, you really don't want me to do it." There was an unwarranted undercurrent of delight to his voice that he didn't quite understand. Or trust.

"I didn't say that." He raised his hands, unconsciously waving the dish towel like a white flag. "It's  _ your _ hair."

"Indeed, it is." Silver folded his arms, taking a step forward and asking, "So what's wrong with shaving it?" He frowned, genuine worry clouding his features for a second. "Wait. You think I can't pull it off? I'm not saying I'll look as good as you did back when we met, but—"

"That's not—" Wait a minute. "What?"

He quirked an eyebrow at him. "Fuck off, you're not actually fishing for compliments right now." Flint just stared, earning himself an eye roll and an exasperated, "You literally had half the department swooning. Max told me that Rackham walked into a wall when he saw you. Vane glared at you for a solid month after that."

He hadn't really been in the mood for any sort of attention at the time, so it was no surprise that he'd missed it. He didn't much care about other people's opinion, anyway, at least not regarding his appearance. Those days were long gone.

Silver's, however...

"So you preferred it short?" He wondered out loud, fingers carding absently through his hair.

"I see you trying to turn this conversation to your advantage, and it's not going to work. We're talking about  _ my _ hair, remember?" He smiled, a knowing glint in his blue eyes. "Why shouldn't I just shave it all off?"

"I never said you shouldn't!" At the unimpressed but insistent look Silver gave him, he realized there was no way out of it. Reluctantly, he said, "Your hair's nice."

"Nice," he echoed, tone mocking.

He huffed. "Now who's the one fishing for compliments?" He felt exposed, his terribly warm cheeks giving him away at once. "Do whatever you want, Silver."

A calculating look, and suddenly Silver was standing barely inches away from him, backing him against the counter. "Guess I'll shave it, then," he whispered, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

"Fine," he answered, gaze fixed on Silver's so it wouldn't stray to his lips. 

With a smirk in place and unyielding eye contact, Silver undid his bun, curls falling artfully over his right shoulder. Flint resisted the urge to sigh at the wave of fresh mint shampoo that threatened to overpower his senses. He rubbed his fingers together, trying to chase away the need to reach out and  _ touch.  _

"What are you doing?" Flint heard himself ask, voice shaky as Silver didn’t back away. He couldn’t recall them ever standing so close.

Silver licked his lips, and this time there was no resisting the urge to look down, his mouth curving slowly as he said, "Trying something new."

A tentative hand came to rest upon Flint's cheek, thumb tracing his jaw as Silver tilted his own head upward and their eyes met. "I don't really want to shave it, you know?"

"Then why—?" He cut himself off, unsure how to finish the question and distracted by the thumb trailing his pulse.

"Needed something to work with." He smirked, pleased, and leaned forward to murmur against his lips, "And you delivered."

Voice like gravel, he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Fond laughter, his beautiful eyes sparkling as he explained, "It means I wanted to make sure you liked me before I showed my hand."

He swallowed, hands coming up to rest low on Silver's hips. "So you threatened to shave your head?" He asked incredulously.

Silver's lips brushed his ear for a brief second as he murmured, "It worked, didn't it?" He leaned back with a self-satisfied edge to his mouth. “You looked about ready to murder every hairdresser in the city.”

“You shit.”

Silver smiled like he’d been paid a compliment.

Flint's hands trailed up Silver's back slowly until they reached his hair. He gave in and let himself touch without restrain, nails scraping lightly as their lips finally met. Silver's palms came to rest on either side of the counter, his chest fully flush against him. Pulse quickening with every graze of lips and every hint of teeth, Flint marvelled at the sensation of having Silver like this, soft and demanding at once. Flint’s touch grew rougher the longer they kissed, his hot tongue against his better than anything his mind could have ever conjured. 

Silver groaned into the kiss, grabbing at his shirt to pull him in the direction of his room. "Dinner can wait," he breathed out, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on Flint’s neck before taking his hand and bringing it to his lips.

Flint wholeheartedly agreed.


End file.
